A Nanny for Christmas by Sara Craven Read Free Book Online Page B

voices and laughter, and a few whistles.
    Tony was kissing her bare breasts, sucking hard on her nipples, hurting her, so that she moaned a little and tried to pull away.
    'You're wasting time.' Tiffany's voice again.
    There were other hands on her now, pulling down her skirt. She resisted, protesting weakly.
    Someone said, 'You can have your clothes back now, Tiff.'
    And Tiffany's reply, swift and venomous. 'After she's been wearing them? You're joking.'
    'Tony,' Phoebe whispered, bewildered. 'Wass happening? Where are you?'
    She heard his voice. 'I'm here. Close your eyes, Princess.'
    She was glad to obey, and shut out the staring faces. It stopped the room revolving too, which was also a relief.
    'But her mouth felt so dry. She ran her tongue round her lips. 'I—I need a drink.'
    'No more for you, Princess. We don't want you unconscious for your big moment.'
    She wondered fuzzily what he meant. Nothing made sense any more. All she wanted was for everyone to go away, and Tony to take her in his arms again. Not hurting her, but gentle, like he'd been in the past.
    After a while, the whispering and giggling seemed to fade away, and there was nothing but silence and darkness ...
     
    I want to stop there, Phoebe thought, gathering the folds of her robe around her with a shiver. I don't want to remember any more. But I must. I have to deal with it— all of it—once and for all time.
    And then I can get on with the rest of my life.
    But first—first, I have to think about Dominic.

CHAPTER FOUR
    P HOEBE was grateful at first for the quiet and the shadows. She felt light-headed, weightless, rocked on some infinite, swaying ocean. Soon, she thought drowsily, soon Tony would return. She lay back on the pillows, smiling to herself. Waiting for him. Wanting him.
    The sudden brilliance of the overhead light snapping on was like a physical shock. She propped herself grog- gily on one elbow, staring towards the door.
    Not Tony at all, she registered dazedly, but a complete stranger in dinner jacket and frilled shirt, his black tie unfastened.
    A tall man, with dark hair and eyes as grey and cold as a January sky. A man standing there as if he'd been transfixed. Clearly as startled as she was herself.
    His gaze grated across her skin. He said slowly and harshly, 'What the hell are you doing here?'
    The room was swaying again. She stared frantically past him, searching for Tony—for anyone except this unknown man who was looking at her as if she was dirt. As if he despised her.
    And then, in the long mirror beside the door, she saw herself, irrevocably and indelibly, as he did—naked and bedraggled, her face under the dishevelled blonde wig flushed and streaked with make-up. Someone she barely recognised, but knew must be herself.
    He took a step closer and she shrank, grabbing at a sheet to cover herself. 'I said—what are you doing here? And who are you?'
    'Phoebe,' she mumbled from her dry throat. 'I'm Phoebe. Tony—brought me.'
    He said bitterly, 'I should have known. Well, you're wasting your time. I can do without your kind of filth.' He bent, picked up the handful of her discarded clothing lying beside the bed, his mouth grim with distaste, and threw it at her. 'Get dressed and get out, you slut, before I throw you out.'
    He walked across the room and flung open another door. Phoebe could see gleaming tiles and the edge of a bath.
    'And dress in there,' he went on bitingly. 'I don't want to watch.'
    She couldn't move. She felt numb, paralysed with horror. She had to say something—to explain that it was all a terrible mistake. But the words wouldn't come. She could only stare up at him helplessly.
    He completely misinterpreted her lack of response. Phoebe found herself ruthlessly dragged off the bed by her arm and pushed forcefully into the bathroom.
    'No more games,' he told her. 'You have exactly ten minutes to make yourself decent, or I call the police.'
    The door slammed behind her. Phoebe looked at the grotesque